Heartless Hope
by nomdeplum9
Summary: Post Let Them Eat Cake--Lisa Cuddy had held onto hope, but she was done. She wouldn't be his plaything, not anymore. Now through Joy to the World.
1. Chapter 1

Elisaveta Eleanora Cuddy was miserable. It was simple, really. She had lost her third baby only a few short weeks ago, had a hostage situation take over her hospital and her office a week ago, and the one many she had had high hopes for, the one man she knew that she could love if it was given back just a little bit, was nothing but a horny bastard trying to get into her pants. She wasn't an easy woman. She didn't kiss on the first date; she waited at least a month before sleeping with a boyfriend. Of course, she hadn't had any boyfriends in a while either, but that's beside the point.

So…her home was childless, her lovelife nonexistent, and her job was slowly writing her entrance papers to the Psyche ward. Fabulous.

Her job was awful because she hadn't become a doctor to become an administrator. Being a Dean, managing an entire hospital, wasn't exactly a walk in the park. She had become a doctor to help people. She wanted her days to be filled with seeing patients and aiding them in their way back to health, not to spend her days editing payrolls and writing up clinic records. Of course, having House around didn't help much either.

He was always there, always ready with a quip about the figure she tried so hard to maintain. They had known each other for decades now, since she was an overworked undergrad and he the med-student legend. There had been a time when she had called him Greg and he called her Elisaveta, her full Hebrew name. She had her ethnic beauty, and he was the strong and the scruffy. Their paths had crossed, and they had become friends. The night before his graduation, she had given in. For one night, she had been his.

That was the last she had seen of him, up until he arrived at PPTH with unbearable leg pain and a girlfriend on his arm. She had welcomed Stacy and, when she wasn't worried about cutting off his leg, House. The time for Greg and Elisaveta had come and gone. They were doctors now, after all. During his recovery she had been promoted and when the six-month mark from his surgery passed she offered him the top job in the newly formed Diagnostics office. He had accepted, grudgingly, and their current unusual relationship was born.

For a while they seemed to forget the people that they had been in college. He was busy trying to deal with the terrible blow life had dealt him, and she was trying to prove to the world that she deserved the job she had been given. For a while, things were ok. They bickered and contradicted each other constantly, butting heads whenever the time allowed. People came in and out of their lives, events mutated them, and it wasn't long before her wild imagination began picturing what could've been.

In her career, she would always be Doctor Lisa Cuddy, but in her private life she found herself living in her daydreams. Elisaveta House, Lisa Eleanora Cuddy-House, Lisa House, the names went on and on. She began picturing children with his electric blue eyes and her unruly dark hair. She could see a little boy learning piano from his father while his sister played mother-daughter tennis. It wasn't that hard to lose herself in the alternate world she began to build.

She was also busy looking for alternate ways to achieve her daydreams, because for the longest time she had believed that her dreams were impossible. The girl that she had found, the one that was supposed to give her her baby, even looked vaguely similar to him. She had thought that, finally, she was going to get something she had wanted for a long time. She had held onto that hope as she held onto the baby, and when she was taken away she had felt broken, hollow inside. That was how he had found her, and in a moment of weakness she had sought the familiar comfort he had once given her.

She realized her mistake as soon as he left. He was different, changed, and the way he thought of her now wasn't the Elisaveta he had once known. She knew that, and yet she let her dreams surround her once again. She kept the possibility in the back of her mind, knowing that no matter what the dynamic between her and him had changed.

Their flirting was more blatant, and she knew Wilson was hovering, trying to talk House into becoming something with her. She didn't think it was possible, especially after his little stunt in his office. That was when she had realized that he was nothing more then a horny bastard, but even that had changed when she saw her old desk in her office.

Only her mother and House knew about that desk. House had spent many college nights perched on the edge, trying to distract her from her obsessive studying. Her mother had taken it when she started working at PPTH. Truthfully, with all of the things that had happened since then, she had forgotten about it. Seeing it again, knowing that it couldn't have been her mother that had brought it back, once again gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, House wasn't merely a horny bastard. Maybe somewhere underneath the scruff and the gruff there was the man that had once cared for her, and that maybe that man and the man she knew today could become the one man that she could see herself with.

Her hopes had been dashed, and this time she was certain it would be the last time. She was done. Elisaveta 'Lisa' Eleanora Cuddy was resigning herself to the life of a career woman. There was nothing more she could do. Greg was a memory, a distant part of her past that wasn't coming back. She was done being his plaything, for good.

* * *

_So...this is my first venture into the House fandom. I love the dynamic between House and Cuddy. For now I'm leaving this as a one shot, but if anyone would like a story out of this, Huddy of course, then I might be able to make it happen. As always, not mine, read, review, and thanks for visiting!_


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time in a long time Lisa Cuddy took Friday off and didn't plan on coming to work during the weekend. Of course, her pager was never more then three feet away from her and her assistant was under strict orders to call if there were any problems, but the effort to relax was still there. James Wilson called her Friday night, checking up on her. She claimed to be feeling under the weather and convinced him that she really didn't need him to come over. James was a good friend, even if a little overprotective at times. She couldn't fault him for that.

She spent Saturday lounging around her house, preparing it for the holiday season. Her pewter menorah was pulled out and shined, the box of blessed candles her mother had given her was opened, and the potatoes were cut for latkes.

She felt at peace, if not completely happy. Once her holiday set-up was done, she played a little piano to unwind. She would never admit it, but in college Greg had taught her rudimentary piano and she had continued with the lessons after he had graduated and left. She didn't get the chance to play much now, but her fingers could still find their way. She found herself drifting from melody to melody, drifting from a few classical pieces to the themes of her favorite Broadway shows. Those she sang, as well, because as a child her mother had insisted on voice lessons. She was holding out the lingering chords to Wicked's "For Good" when she felt a shift in the air behind her.

She tensed instantly, releasing the keys and closing her mouth as her body readied itself to fight. She turned, and…

House. Greg. Damn him, he was standing behind her, quietly pulling apart one of her latkes and wearing a look on his face she hadn't seen in a while.

"Cuddy…" he started, but she wasn't in the mood.

"Leave," she ordered shortly, standing up and making her way to the kitchen, grabbing what was left of his latke and dumping it in the garbage as she passed it.

"Lisa…" he tried again, but she shook her head, black curls everywhere.

"No. House," she said, emphasizing his last name. "There is nothing you need to say to me right now. I'll see you at work on Monday. You have clinic hours due before the holiday vacation."

She turned, intent on darting into her home office and locking the door behind her, but a fire-painted cane slammed onto the counter top just inches from her waist.

"Damn it, Elisaveta!" he cursed, so softly she almost missed it.

She tried to swallow away the rush of heartbeats that followed her given name. Her fingers curled around his cane and dropped it to the ground as she forced her gaze up to meet his eyes. It was pitiful, really, but she knew she probably wore her wounded soldier look, the one that had been immovable in his office and when she had stood outside of it just a few days ago.

"Your little stunt with the fake patient will cost you approximately three thousand dollars, for all of the tests Kutner and Taub ran, and the cost of housing your…friend…for two days. If a check isn't on my desk by lunch Monday then the money will come from your office cable bill," she murmured softly. She thought she saw his eyes flash when she mentioned the hooker, but it was probably just a trick of the light.

"When did you get so good at the piano? And since when do you sing?" he asked.

"It's time for you to leave, House," she replied, avoiding the questions as she had avoided all of the other comments he had made over the years. "I have things to do."

"Like what, a Grease medley?" he snarked, and that was enough.

"Leave, House. When I'm on the clock I'm paid to deal with you, but this is my free time and I don't have to put up with you," she returned, the cold comment triggering an instant release of guilt. "Besides, I would bet that your friend is eager for you to come back. Wouldn't want to disappoint her."

This time his reaction was immediate, visible, and frustrated.

"I hired her to teach Kutner and Taub a lesson—"

"And you got a private session too," she interrupted. "I get it, House."

"It didn't happen like that!" he retorted quickly, and she saw…concern?...in his eyes before they narrowed in careful suspicion.

"How do you know about what I may or may not have done with her?" he asked.

"I was showing Wilson my finished office and saw the desk…only you and my mother know that it was still around. I was coming to thank you and…you were busy," she mumbled, and her eyes slid from his gaze and fell to the floor.

"Damn it, Elisaveta…" he cursed again. The sound of her name steeled her resolve and she forced herself to look him in the eyes once more.

"I'm busy, House. Don't forget to lock the door on your way out," she said shortly, turning on her heels and disappearing into her home office, slamming and locking the door behind her.

* * *

_So...I was really shocked at the response I got from this story! It was so good to hear that most people like this, so I decided to try my hand at making a story at it. I have no idea where it will go, so any suggestions or a holiday wishlist would be nice. As always, not mine, read and review, etc. Thanks!_


	3. Chapter 3

Sunday didn't fare much better. She had just sat down for another piano session when a knock on the door sounded throughout the room. After years of dealing with House, she recognized the wood-on-wood sound. She slowly made her way to the door and opened it a crack, frowning.

"Leave, House, she commanded, and the door that should've been slammed in his face was stopped by a cane pushed quickly into place. "House..." she warned.

"My head is pounding, so loud noises won't help," he said dryly. "Please, Elisaveta, I just want to talk." His voice had become somewhat sincere, and against her better judgement she found herself opening the door.

"Fine," she sighed, turning and making her way back to the piano. "You interrupted my warm-ups."

She began playing softly, his sigh matching the soft melody of the keys.

"I was an idiot to push something on you that you didn't want," she said slowly, keeping her eyes focuses on the piano in front of her. "I should have remembered that you don't like any change to the status quo. I won't forget again. I'm sorry."

"You're…apologizing?" he asked, astounded. "I screwed up and yet you're the one apologizing. Some things never change, Elisaveta."

"What do you mean?" she said sharply, drifting to the darker chords as her body tensed in reaction.

"You always have to smooth things over, anything to return things to a perfect world. You did absolutely nothing wrong, I was a complete ass, and yet you're apologizing when I really should be groveling to spend another minute here before you kick me out," he replied.

"You're not going to grovel, House, you're not the type."

"Gregory," he corrected. "After all these years, we should know each other well enough to call each other by our given names, Elisaveta."

"What relationship do we have, House? The old college friends? The mutual colleagues? The friends? The…what?" she asked him, letting her fingers drift over the piano into a mournful tune, one she recognized as an old musical showtune, the final song of "Blood Brothers."

He said nothing, merely watched her hands as she hummed along to the sad song she was playing.

"I guess I have my answer then," she sighed. "I'm your boss, House. You are a department head in the hospital at which I am Dean. There isn't anything else. You can go now."

She turned back to her music, every syllable in her body language screaming for him to leave. Instead, he sat next to her on the piano bench.

"You were a beginner in college, Lisa. How did you get so good?" he asked.

"I took lessons in elementary school before my parents decided that the violin and singing lessons were better. I couldn't do so many musical activities, and I chose the violin."

He nodded in understanding at that, and brought his hands to the keyboard to play the lower part of a duet he had taught her in college. She caught on and switched songs quickly, and for a few minutes they sat there playing, each's mind racing with possibilities.

Elisaveta could easily see a future like this. Coming home together after a stressful day at the hospital, one or both of them settling at the piano to play away a few hours. She could imagine herself bustling around the kitchen, putting her mother's recipes to good use while he played.

With a sigh she brought her hands crashing down on the keys in a mess of angry chords before rushing into her kitchen, empty mug in hand. She heard him stop behind her and the familiar thud of the cane on her hardwood floor soon resounded in the doorway.

"What's wrong?" he asked gruffly.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, and she prayed to any higher being that could possibly be listening that her eyes weren't glistening as much as she felt like crying at that moment. "I'm a forty-two year old workaholic who's a failure at being a woman. I can't handle relationships with my parents, colleagues, or old friends. I have no life outside my work and no idea how to live any other way."

"And I'm a permanently crippled drug addict. I use sarcasm like you use kindness. I'm abrasive, rude, and I mistreat people around me. I argue with you too much and I'm guilty as hell because I enjoy it so much. I push people away and sulk when at the end of the day I'm home alone with a bottle of vodka and a thing of pills. I'm tired of being alone, Elisaveta, especially because I want to be with you," he admitted.

"I can't…trust myself around you, House. I'm always thinking of what would happen, instead of trying to make a future for myself. I'm tired, House. I don't want to play any more games or have to check how I act around you. I can't function like that. We want different things," she said, shaking her head as if that would enforce the idea that much more.

"I want to be with you, Elisaveta. If you really wanted to be with me you could do it," he murmured dejectedly.

"And if there is a miracle and I get my baby? Would you still want the both of us? This is what I mean, House. We're both too stubborn to be anything short of the truest form of ourselves. Unless something drastic happens, that means that you and I stay apart."

Something drastic, indeed.

* * *

_Thanks so much for the fabulous response!! I love reading everything you all have to say. As always, not mine, read, review…this chapter is pre Joy to the World, but I still haven't decided whether the next one will be before or after. Thoughts?_


	4. Chapter 4

Faith Rebekah Cuddy, six pounds three ounces, eighteen inches long, was hers. Well, not really. She was a foster mother, and in all probability would be able to adopt before Joy's first birthday. The baby had wisps of dark hair, and if she looked anything like her biological mother then she would also resemble Lisa. The girl was also intelligent, so was the father, and all in all, Lisa was very lucky.

When she had known that Faith would be hers, when she had taken up her vigil beside the tiny bassinet, she hadn't expected House to show up. She had prepared herself for the possibility of him confronting her for a scolding after her rescue mission, and at the very least she thought that he would send Wilson in to call her out on her stupidity. Yet, there was nothing. No rants about how her bleeding heart was one day going to get her hurt or killed. So his visit to the NICU had been a surprise, to say the least.

His coolness about her sudden motherhood hadn't been unexpected, though. She knew that, in her heart of hearts she knew the choice he had made, and still his ability to turn his back on her and her child made her heart ache. She wanted to yell at him, do something to make him realize that he was turning away from a fairytale ending. He was turning away from what could've been a picture-perfect family. He had begrudgingly wished her Merry Christmas and left, probably to waste the holiday with vicodin and vodka.

It was with a sigh that she shook her head and focused on the present, where her Faith was currently tightening and loosening her grip on her finger. Her precious little baby would be able to go home tomorrow, after one final medical examination and a last visit with the social worker that would be monitoring them until the adoption process was over. Until that meeting, her place was beside her baby.

**XXXXX**

Twelve weeks. Eighty-four days. That was her scheduled maternity leave, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to make the most out of it. At the moment she was just sitting in her living room, listening to a Mozart tape and just holding her baby. Faith was smiling, her tiny features calm, mirroring the contentedness that must've been on her face. She was just about ready to put the baby down for the night when a knock sounded on the door.

It was late, she was tired, and she wasn't going to play his games. She opened the door a crack very carefully, balancing Faith to one side, shielding her from House's gazes.

"I wanted to see how you and your baby were doing," he said gruffly. "I also brought Chinese and presents for you both." He gestured towards her living room with the bags she noticed in his hands. "Can I come in?"

She eyed him warily before moving to let him in, knowing that he would follow her as she made her way to the kitchen, where a baby rocker was set up on the breakfast nook there. Unwillingly, she wrapped Faith in a blanket and settled her into the rocker and pulled a chair up next to it, wanting to stay as close as possible to her little miracle. With a slight frown she stood once more to help him set up the food, getting out plates and unwrapping her set of chopsticks before easily stealing a spring roll he had put on his plate.

"Thank you for this," she said quietly, focusing on her food and Joy and doing anything to not meet his gaze.

"With the baby coming home today I figured that you would be too happy to remember to eat. And I wanted to see you," he admitted.

"I didn't forget to eat," she huffed, deftly taking a bite of lo mein to punctuate her sentence.

"Oh really? When and where did you last eat then?"

"I had…a bran muffin in the hospital before the meeting with Faith's social worker," she admitted guiltily.

"My point exactly. Lise, you're beautiful enough as it is that you don't need to be starving yourself to stay that way. When was the last time you fed Faith?" he asked, nodding at the infant happily watching the interaction between the two adults.

"Barely an hour before you got here," she replied hotly.

"See? You're a mommy now, you need to be caring for yourself more then ever. Don't mess with yourself because you have a child. You're still Elisa—"

"Don't call me that," she interrupted quickly. "She doesn't exist. I'm Doctor Lisa Cuddy."

"You're still…Lisa," he finished quietly. "Don't lose that."

She nodded and they finished eating in relative silence, broken only by the small coos Faith made as Lisa absentmindedly played with her. She was so engrossed in eating and entertaining that she didn't catch the almost wistful look that House wore on his face until they were finished. She was clearing off the table and making a pot of coffee when he stood suddenly, pausing for a moment before speaking.

"I can, you know, watch her if you'd like to go shower or get anything else done," he offered quietly, his gaze firmly planted on the floor.

She froze, her eyes scanning him over, seeking an ulterior motive to his actions. Despite the intense gaze she had felt when he had visited Faith's room at the hospital he had walked away. Come to think of it, he had a nasty little habit of walking away. First in college as he left to explore the world outside of his parents' reach…then almost during his infarction hospital stay…then the night she had lost Joy. The last time, when he had entertained the hooker in his office, made her heart ache the most. Yet, somehow, she still managed to feel something other then loathing for the man currently awaiting her response.

"Uhh…actually, that would be great," she said, smiling softly at him. "I stink and I really need to get the laundry done."

He smiled back for a moment, a genuine smile for just a moment, before gently swooping down and picking Faith up. Lisa looked startled for a moment, and House took the opportunity to gently take hold of one of the baby's little fists and waved it.

"Tell Mommy to stop being such a worry wart, little munchkin. All that stress isn't good for that hot body," he snarked in a mock infant voice. She knew his compassion wouldn't show for long.

He turned to walk with the infant to her living room, and she turned towards her bedroom for a shower. Two hours, one long hot shower, and two loads of laundry sorted and put away, Lisa returned to her living room to a wonderful sight. House had taken up residence on her couch, Faith snuggled up on his chest, both snoring and sleeping soundly. There was nothing she could do except settle down on the couch next to them, and pretend until morning that this was the family she had finally received.

* * *

_Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews!! In the holiday spirit, let's try and see if we can reach 40, ok? As always, not mine, read, review, etc. Happy Holidays!_


	5. Chapter 5

Lisa woke up at an ungodly hour Saturday morning to her baby's feeble cries. Surprisingly enough, House, _Greg_, was still there, snoring lightly and cradling Faith to his chest with one big, soft palm. Gently, she pried his hand off her baby's back and eased her into waiting arms. She rocked Faith back and forth as she bustled in the kitchen making a bottle, humming a nonsense lullaby that her mother used to sing to her when she was little. She had barely settled in at the kitchen table, bottle firmly in the little baby's mouth, when House, _Greg_, thumped into the kitchen.

"Well aren't you just the picture of domestic bliss?" he snarked, but there was no spite behind his gentle sarcasm. He limped over to the chair that she was perched on and held out his palm to cup Faith's head, causing her to blink up wearily at him while she finished eating.

"It's exactly what I wished for," she sighed happily, burping her daughter one last time and gently wiping the spit-up off her face. She shifted Faith's weight easily and moved throughout the kitchen with a familial grace that she was sure Greg hadn't been expecting.

"Got anything to eat?" he asked, somewhat uncomfortably, opening the fridge and eagerly pulling out a tupperware container. "Ooh, potato pancakes!"

"They're for Hanukkah…which starts today!" she exclaimed. "Quick, I need the phone, please!"

He looked puzzled, growing increasingly more curious as she tucked the baby into the rocker and dialed a number faster then he could say 'latkes'.

"Hi, I almost forgot…yeah, I know now….I have them….yes…well I'm not going to just—…we'll see….around four then? We'll be ready. Gut yontiff."

"Gut yontiff? Good holiday? I didn't know that you were so observant," Greg said, after she hung up the phone and picked up her baby again.

"And I didn't know you understand Hebrew."

"The Rosenthal family moved around the bases with us while I was in elementary school. I won't be wearing a yarmulke anytime soon, unless Wilson gets married again, but I spent enough time to know what it's all about," he said offhandedly. "Back to my statement, though. I didn't know you were observant."

"I belonged to that circle until college. There it didn't matter how many people came to my bat mitzvah or who my father did his business with. I lapsed, but I want Faith to at least have the choice if she so wishes. We won't be strict, not like how I grew up, but we'll keep the holidays," she replied.

"And on the phone?" he prodded. "Lapsed Cuddystein family members also observing the Festival of Lights?"

"James. He and I get together for the first night to say the prayers and eat," she explained.

"And I haven't been invited to this little party because…?"

"It's our faith, Greg. You would never just sit back and listen, and this is one of the few nights a year where rudeness isn't tolerated. You can stay, but you have to be on your very best behavior."

**XXXXX**

"Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu, melekh ha'olam shehecheyanu v'kiyimanu v'higi'anu laz'man hazeh. Amein," Lisa sang softly, lighting the candles and turning to smile at Faith, who was in Greg's arms, and James, who stood dutifully by her side.

"Amein," the two men repeated.

"Let's eat!" James said, clapping his hands together. Lisa smiled and disappeared from the living room, going to retrieve the latkes and dishes. James turned to where Greg was rocking the baby back and forth lightly, murmuring nonsense words as he moved to a place where he could sit. James watched and shook his head slightly, jumping at the noises Lisa made as she flew past him to set up the food on the table, near where Greg and Faith sat.

They ate in relative silence, watching the shadows flicker on the wall as they enjoyed her cooking. She ate quickly, making a bottle and gently moving Faith into her cradled arm from her post nestled on Greg's chest. James watched them with mild amusement, noting the familial movements even if the pair didn't realize what they were doing. He did the dishes, another part of their mixed up tradition, and couldn't help the smile that snuck onto his face as he heard the piano float into the kitchen, soft lullabies that didn't match with the jazz or bitter pounding he knew Greg preferred to play. By the time he was done the candles had burned out, and he prepared his goodbyes.

**XXXXX**

Lisa was enjoying herself. Hanukkah had started without any problems and Greg had been respectful as she and James went through the traditions. Faith, too, hadn't cried at all and seemed quite content in the scruffy doctor's arms. Lisa would have to work to deny that she felt the same way. All of her happiness kept her going until James reappeared from her kitchen, announcing his departure. He had accepted the one-armed hug she had offered him, gently tickled Faith's baby belly, and nodded at Greg, who had made himself at home at her piano. After he had left, she changed Faith's diaper and put her down for the night. When she returned back to her living room, he was still there, twirling his cane in his hands.

"This was…nice," he said, standing when she came into his line of sight. She nodded and met his gaze, a cautious expression on her face.

He took a step closer to her and she braced herself. This was it. Fairytale ending, happily ever after, they kiss and make up and the world has righted itself once more. Her eyes flickered to the ground for just a second and she saw a stuffed animal of Faith's on the floor.

The second was all she needed to remember all of the events in the past month. Her brokenness, his ability to walk away…and now she had a baby, another human life that depended on the choices she made. She couldn't let him do this to her again, to wreak havoc on her emotions and expect her to just suffer on.

If he wanted her he'd have to prove it. One day didn't erase the pattern set by decades.

"Goodbye, Greg," she whispered, and she bent to pick up the toy, turned, and fled into the safety of her bedroom.

**XXXXX**

Greg, huh? It wasn't much, but it was an improvement. He was making progress…

**XXXXX**

_So…here's my first update in 2009! I hope everyone had a safe and happy new year. As always, not mine, read, review, etc. I also have little to no knowledge of Judaism, so I hope I didn't offend anyone reading. Tasteful corrections are always welcome._


	6. Chapter 6

Lisa waited a little while, hearing the soft close of the door before she wandered out into the living room. She locked the door and, against her better judgment, peered out the window. A shiny red corvette was parked in the street, and in the darkness she could still make out Greg's profile in the driver's seat. With a soft sigh she forced herself to take a step back and, with pursed lips, turned from the door and closed all the blinds to her house.

She tidied up a bit and played a few soft lullabies on the piano before getting ready for bed. Every time she passed by the pale yellow nursery room she couldn't stop herself from peeking in and watching the small body rise and fall with each breath. She did one last check before settling into her king-sized bed, noting that the feeling of loneliness that usually set in was dimmed.

She tried to sleep, she really did. But thoughts of Greg, her future, Greg, her baby, and Greg kept interfering. Finally, she got out of bed and crept into Faith's room, wrapping her comforter around her like a cocoon before taking up residence in the rocker by the crib. She watched the little girl sleep, tiny fingers tucked into tiny fists.

"You like Greg, huh?" she whispered, needing to talk her problems out and hoping that her daughter wouldn't mind being a soundboard.

"I'm sure how he feels about me most of the time, but I think he likes you too," she said. "And I want that. I've never known two people more deserving of love. I just…I want to love him too, and while he has no problem with you, he's fighting me at every chance he gets. There's only so much I can take," she said softly. "I can't be broken by him, and I don't want to break him. If he leaves completely, it won't be just us affected."

Almost as if in protest, Faith fussed in her sleep, a soft musical cry interrupting Lisa's monologue. In an instant the baby was out of the crib and tucked safely into her mother's embrace, listening to words meant to sooth them both.

"There there, sweetheart, don't cry. I know you don't want him to leave, neither do I, but it's best if he stays at arm's length for just a little while, until I can be around him without preparing for him to walk out of our lives."

**XXXXX**

The next three days passed like a dream. Lisa was pleased to know she could run her errands as normal with Faith and that, maybe, this motherhood thing was a part of her genetic makeup after all. Faith only cried when it was time for a nap, meal, or changing, and the mild temper of the baby was a welcome change from Greg's childish antics.

She took pictures, lots of them. She had the good fortune to have the camera resting beside her as she played the piano, and as she was finishing a song she turned to see the baby smiling. That would later become a page of it's own in Faith's photo album.

In the midst of everything, it was hard to notice that Greg didn't stop by. Perhaps she had overestimated his dedication, his determination, and his desire for her. It wouldn't be the first time. She was lucky, then, to know that Faith would never remember these weeks of her life, the time she had spent with a curmudgeonly doctor with a cane and scruffy beard, the man who had seemed capable of loving her for the precious little girl she was.

Of course, that didn't stop her own heartache. Heartless hope, her mother would call it. To hope and want for something with all her heart and be left with nothing else there. Throughout her life, her mother had used the phrase to explain away less-then-perfect grades, high goals, and changing relationships. It was fitting, then, that the phrase would pop up now. She finally had what she thought she wanted, a beautiful little girl, but now it just magnified the fact that there was an important figure missing from her idyllic little family.

However, she still wasn't sure that Greg was the one to fill in that spot. If she managed to overlook the fact that her heart had decided that he was the only man suitable for them, then the reality was she wasn't sure whether he wanted them or if he could handle the role she intended to put him in. She would never force him to stay, even if she wasn't sure she could handle him leaving.

She was stuck, then, caught in a catch-22 where a fairytale ending and the complete abandonment were both distant possibilities. Floating in limbo, like she was now, would only last for so long. It was Greg's move in the game.

**XXXXX**

_Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews!! I'm sorry about the late update but I was at the USA inauguration and then I had surgery. You know the drill, not mine, read and review, etc. etc. Who else is loving the Huddyness in recent episodes?_


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